diamonds like loose change
by sarsaparillia
Summary: So we outsmarted a banshee. Now what? — Kenzi/Sean.


**disclaimer**: disclaimed.  
**dedication**: to Emily, for a lot of reasons.  
**notes**: rewatching season one, and I am STILL NOT OKAY with Sean Cavanaugh's death so, yeah, here. Kenzi/Sean just because I can.  
**notes2**: do not try to school me on banshee lore, okay. just don't.

**title**: diamonds like loose change  
**summary**: So we outsmarted a banshee. Now what? — Kenzi/Sean.

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"So we outsmarted a banshee. Now what?"

"I don't know. Is outsmarting a banshee even a thing you can do?"

Kenzi smacked him in the arm. "Jesus, look, the sun's been down for like an _hour_ and you're still not dead! I think we can count this one as a point for the good guys, Seanney-boy."

"I could still get shot," he said, grinning out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, you could. But you probably won't, and there won't be any ugly crying on my part. Which is great, so! Now what?"

"You were the one who wanted to do the bucket list thing."

Kenzi rolled her eyes towards the eyes. "Well, yeah, _duh_, we thought you were gonna _die_! Of course you had to do the bucket list thing, it was like _important_, okay?"

Laughter rolled over Sean like a wave, shaking out through his shoulders. It was infectious in a way that Kenzi didn't even know laughter could be, because a minute later she was snorting, too. It was a body-wracking sound, a little hysteric, and together they cackled until they were out of breath.

But it was nice, and jesus, he actually should not have been breathing. It was a weird fucking thought.

"I'm glad you're not dead," Kenzi said quietly, after their laughter had dissipated into the air like smoke. "Like, seriously, dude. Really glad."

"Yeah?" Sean asked. "Well, me too."

"Um, if you _weren't_ glad, I'd be worried about your mental state. Just sayin'," Kenzi said, lips curling up. Arms wrapped around herself, she bumped her hip against his.

He flushed. "No, I'm glad that—wait, no, that's not—shit."

"Having trouble with words? I know, they're hard," Kenzi patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

"You're such a shithead," Sean snorted. "I don't know why I like you."

"But you do like me," Kenzi smirked. He slung an arm around her shoulders, loose enough, but the night was cold and Kenzi leaned into the contact just a little. It couldn't hurt, really—he wasn't dead, wasn't _going_ to die. "It must be so tough."

"How does Bo put up with you?" Sean asked. Kenzi thought there might have been genuine curiosity in his voice, and what, _no_, she was not responsible for this nonsense.

"It's a hardship," Bo volunteered from behind them.

(Kenzi had totally forgotten she was there. Oops?)

"Excuse me, I'm _pretty_! And I keep you from eating people's faces!" Kenzi shouted over her shoulder. "You need that!"

"I need it like I need a hole in the head, Kenzi," Bo called back. "Are you coming home?"

Kenzi pressed her index finger to her nose, scrunching up her face as she contemplated it. On one hand, god, fae shenanigans tired her the fuck out, and she was frankly exhausted. On the other hand, she could totally go for a beer. Also, Sean still hadn't removed his arm, and that was an avenue to explore, too. He was a decent dude, and she was _really_ glad he wasn't bleeding out in an alleyway.

The deciding factor, however, was the rather hungry way that Bo was looking at Dyson. Ugh, Kenzi had had enough of that to last her the rest of her life, and possibly several others.

"Nah," she called back. "Le Shos—what's it called, Fae Day, whatever—it's not over yet. And I think this guy here owes me beer. Go home, I'll see you later!"

Bo didn't deign to reply, already wrapped around Dyson. Kenzi sighed very loudly. She had no desire to get between _that_ banging hot mess (wow, literally). She'd had _more_ than enough of that, _thank you very much_.

"I owe you beer?" Sean sounded amused.

Kenzi turned cool blue eyes towards him. "I stole a car for you today, dude, I think you can spare me a beer."

"Hey, _I_ did that, you just—"

"I will concede you did the heavy lifting," Kenzi said solemnly. "But you'd never have done it without me, so you can buy me a beer and we'll call it even. You were so into it, anyway, you freakin' chicken-shit, jeez!"

He laughed again, but this time it was a lot lower in his throat and he was laughing _into her hair_. So yeah, going home would happen maybe later. Right now, she had a beer or eight to drink and a cute not-dead faery dude curled around her. _Neat_.

"Where d'you wanna go?" Kenzi asked. "We could always go bug Trick. I could steal his wine."

"What is with you and stealing?" Sean asked.

"Habit," Kenzi shrugged within the crook of his arm. "Just habit. I wasn't always a good person, I mean—wow, okay, this is totally too heavy right now, I am not even close enough to the kind of drunk I'd need to be to talk about this, so let's stop, or, uh—"

"Hey," he said quietly. "It's okay."

"Now it is. Because of Bo," Kenzi murmured. "It didn't used to be."

"We don't have to talk about it."

"You are _way_ too cool to be real. Are you sure you're real? Like, okay, _obviously_ you're real, but are you sure you're not gonna eat me or something? I don't wanna be eaten, it sounds kinda shitty."

"You get flippant when you don't want to deal with something, huh," Sean said.

Something went stricken in Kenzi's chest. "Yeah, you know what? Alcohol. Alcohol is a thing we should do. Like, right now."

And then she was dragging him in the direction of Trick's bar, because it was easier to deal with that than with the questions behind his eyes. Twenty minutes and six shots later, Kenzi was better-willing to deal.

"I ran away a lot, as a kid," she told him softly. "I mean, I didn't really have anywhere—to go, you know? Didn't matter. I just didn't want to be at home."

"I didn't think Liam was ever going to forgive me," Sean replied, just as softly. "I literally had to almost die to talk to my little brother."

"That's fucked up," Kenzi muttered.

"It kind of is. But you know what," he said, eyes twinkling. "I still haven't kissed a human. I've a mind to."

"I should probably hit you again," Kenzi observed. "You'd _probably_ deserve it."

"Probably," he said, and _oh_, was that an Irish accent? Did Sean get accent-ey when he was drunk? Oh, she was _done_. She was so, so, _so_ done. "Would you get mad if I kissed you?"

"Are you trying to seduce me with your accent? I think you are trying to seduce me with your accent," Kenzi said.

"Maybe," he said, and, wow, okay, he was suddenly really close. "Do you mind?"

Kenzi blinked slowly, turning the situation over and over in her mind. She'd met him _ten hours_ ago. However, he'd also seen Bo, and he still seemed to be into her. Also, he was fae, didn't have a girlfriend, and knew how to make her laugh. There was potential here, Kenzi knew.

And she wasn't even going to be in over her head. Dudes were easy. Dudes Kenzi could do, because there was a shit-ton of other things for her to be in over her head about. Like faeries. Actual legitimate faeries. That was such a totally different level of tomfuckery that kissing seemed totally tame in comparison.

"Nope," she said. "Nope, not minding at all. What's taking you so long, get over here."

He wrapped his arms around her, hauled her into his lap like it was nothing, and then his lips were over hers and Kenzi's mind went completely blank. She could do nothing except hum in pleasure at the way his fingers dup into her hips.

She pulled for a second to fix him square in the eye with a dark look. "I swear to God, if you're a succubus, I am going to punch you _so hard_."

"Incubi," Sean breathed. "Male succubus are called Incubi."

"How do you even _know_ that?" Kenzi demanded.

"I read?" Sean said a little helplessly. "Can I kiss you now?"

"God, _yes_," Kenzi sighed.

"You are _such_ a shithead," he said into her mouth.

"You like it," she snickered. Her fingers flexed in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. It drew a long, deep groan out of somewhere deep in his chest. "You like it _so much_, admit it."

He didn't even try for denial, too busy running his tongue along the seam of her lips.

Kenzi _totally_ counted it as a win.

—

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_fin_.


End file.
